Spiral's End
by Ellcrys
Summary: Sometimes it's hard for Tsuzuki to tell if his issues and Hisoka's are tearing them apart, or drawing them together, or if they're just running in circles.


* * *

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters. Also not for profit.

**Warning:** Kink, but non-explicit.

**Notes:** Started out as a stream of consciousness sort of thing while I was trying to get in the right frame of mind to RP Tsuzuki. Then after writing that, I jokingly commented that I should follow it up with "So he asked Hisoka to tie him to the bed." ...And somehow, it became less of a joke. No doubt it's been done before, but it's what came out.

* * *

**Spiral's End**

There were lots of reasons not to listen to what Muraki said, plenty of reasons not to believe him. The problem was that none of them were stronger than the feeling that what he said was the truth. Before he ever met Muraki, before Muraki was even born, Tsuzuki thought of himself as a monster, as a killer. It was only that he could listen to the people who insisted that he wasn't - it was just his job, there was nothing terrible about him, he was doing what had to be done and if he didn't do it someone else would - until Muraki came along and demonstrated exactly what a murderer was. He was a smart man; doctors had to be smart, and the fact that he hadn't been caught for all his crimes further proved his intelligence. And he confirmed that Tsuzuki was just like him.

All the arguments against it had always fallen flat. People told him what he wanted to hear, because then he'd feel better and be able to go on. They were his friends, and they didn't want him to feel sad. Tsuzuki appreciated that, the same way he appreciated the desserts they'd share with him.

The problem was, no matter how much Tsuzuki ate, he would always wind up hungry again eventually. No matter how hard they tried to keep him from self-destructing, there was a seemingly bottomless pit in his soul as well, and it would never be permanently filled by kindnesses. What he needed was to heal - and who would know better about healing than a doctor? But Muraki said he was beyond hope.

Tsuzuki didn't like Muraki. The man made his skin crawl, and the way he played with people like toys sickened him. But not liking someone didn't mean that they couldn't be right...

But no - Muraki lied to everyone. He delighted in mind games. Just because he was intelligent didn't mean that anything he said held any truth to it. So why did Tsuzuki listen to him...?

...Because Muraki never outright lied, either. There were threads of truth running through all his lies. That made it even worse - it was one thing to just lie, but another entirely to twist the truth.

There were many things about the man that made Tsuzuki angry. Some were obvious, like what he'd done to Hisoka, or Maria Wong, or Tsubaki-hime, or Mariko... and that was as far as Tsuzuki could get before deciding that he couldn't be angry with Muraki about what he'd done to him personally, because he deserved worse.

Honestly, what had Muraki done to him in particular? He'd never really harmed him physically, unless he'd done something while Tsuzuki was in his trance, seeing only the dreams his soul showed him. If Muraki had done anything then, Tsuzuki didn't remember.

It was the spirit that Muraki had harmed. He'd given Tsuzuki all the more reason to doubt himself and everything that he did. Even aside from being a murderer, just looking at Hisoka, finding him beautiful... a word that Muraki himself used to describe Hisoka, even as he tortured the boy. If Tsuzuki thought Hisoka was beautiful, he was like Muraki. If he wanted to touch him and taste him and see him in that split second where agony and ecstasy collided, he was like Muraki. And when Hisoka threw his head back and cried out, that was what Muraki had seen years ago, wasn't it? Tsuzuki didn't want to share anything with Muraki.

More than the feeling of being a monster and a murderer, which Tsuzuki knew he could come to terms with eventually because he had in the past, Tsuzuki was furious with Muraki for ruining that. It should have been a happy thing to be with Hisoka, but Muraki was lurking behind every touch, tainting it with fear or guilt or both.

Or anger, which might be worse. It was a self-perpetuating cycle, because if Tsuzuki thought about how angry he was at Muraki, he would be even angrier at Muraki for making him angry. Tsuzuki didn't like being angry. Anger was like violence, and violence was like Muraki - and when he was angry, he was like Muraki.

Tsuzuki didn't want to be like Muraki. But if he couldn't be angry, it seemed his alternative option was guilt over being like Muraki anyway.

Guilt was what separated him from Muraki, and he clung to it.

This was why he asked Hisoka to tie him to the bed.

* * *

"...What?"

Tsuzuki really hoped he hadn't spoiled the mood. The way Hisoka had drawn back, looking at him from above with a dazed sort of incredulity, made him think he'd made a mistake.

He tried again anyway. "...Will you... tie me up. To the bed." Hisoka's eyes narrowed, and he backpedaled slightly. "Well, not to the bed, if you don't want to, I was just thinking it would be better if..."

"Better than what? What are you afraid of?"

Of course Hisoka would have realized he was afraid. Tsuzuki wasn't sure whether or not he hoped Hisoka would also detect that little spark that had ignited at the idea, more than just relief at the idea of being rendered completely harmless, at the mercy of someone who could do anything they wanted to him regardless of what he wanted...

Definitely more than relief. It turned him on in a way he hadn't expected, more than he was already turned on, and that was nearly as strong as the fear. Hisoka bit his lip, his eyes glazing over a little; yeah, the sudden desperation must be obvious to him one way or another.

He was stubborn, though. "What are you afraid of?" he repeated, even as he pulled the loosened tie from around Tsuzuki's neck and started on the buttons of his shirt.

Tsuzuki didn't like talking about it. Mostly because Hisoka had already tried to comfort him about it before, and he didn't want Hisoka to think that he didn't do any good. "I... don't want to hurt you," he murmured, sliding his hands beneath Hisoka's shirt, where they'd been before.

"You've never hurt me," Hisoka said softly, raising his arms for a moment so that Tsuzuki could slip his shirt over his head, and then Hisoka pushed Tsuzuki's shirt off his shoulders in turn. "You could never hurt me. ...Idiot."

Tsuzuki shuddered as Hisoka leaned in, his lips brushing along Tsuzuki's neck. "...Please..." He didn't want to explain any more. Hisoka had humored him before, couldn't he just humor him in this?

Hisoka ignored him, taking Tsuzuki's hands in his own and leaning forward again to kiss him, stretching their arms up above Tsuzuki's head. ...But then again, maybe he hadn't ignored Tsuzuki after all; Tsuzuki soon found his tie wrapping around his wrist. "I'm not sure how to do this," Hisoka muttered, almost seeming oblivious to the way Tsuzuki shivered beneath him as the silk was drawn tight around the old scars. "If it's too tight... if you decide you don't like it, whatever... just tell me."

He looked down at Tsuzuki with a critical eye once the tie had rounded the bedpost and been secured to Tsuzuki's other wrist, no doubt feeling the threads of fear and helplessness in the older shinigami. But with it was a steady flow of hope and need and desire, a wide river compared to the rest - and Hisoka was letting himself be swept away in it for the time being, unzipping his own pants because Tsuzuki couldn't reach them.

"Yes..." Tsuzuki murmured, unconsciously testing his bonds - and it wasn't just an agreement. This felt much more like he thought it should. "Yes, yes... yes."

"Yes..." Hisoka whispered, giving in to Tsuzuki's currents as he leaned forward to meet his lips.

It was good, or at least better. Tsuzuki didn't have that sense that maybe he was being selfish and manipulative, at least, when he had no control whatsoever over what happened between himself and Hisoka. But something was still not quite right. Hisoka was too good to him, too gentle and affectionate, in his gruff sort of way. Which should have been a good thing, but somehow it left him feeling... he couldn't decide how exactly it felt, but it wasn't as fulfilling as he'd hoped. He knew why, too.

* * *

"Aren't you angry?"

Again, Tsuzuki hoped he wasn't killing the mood. Hisoka just looked at him, puzzled, as he tied Tsuzuki's wrist with the length of silk they'd gotten a few weeks past to replace the tie. "About what?"

"About... well... what he did to you."

Hisoka stopped short, staring at Tsuzuki blankly, which was worse than if he had reacted angrily. Then he sat back on his heels. "...Why are you bringing that up? Especially now."

Tsuzuki had misjudged, or at least he would have said he had misjudged if he had any idea how Hisoka would react before he said it. He was such an idiot - no, worse than an idiot - he was manipulative and cruel and awful. "I-I'm sorry..." he mumbled, putting his free hand over his face.

Seeing the signs that he was about to cry, Hisoka leaned forward again and pulled the hand away to look in Tsuzuki's eyes. "No. You're not thoughtless enough to have brought it up unless you thought there was a reason. So what is it?" His voice was stern. "And you _will_ tell me, because that... I'm not going to just brush it off like most of the careless things you say, Tsuzuki."

Tsuzuki quivered a little, not knowing where to start. And this time, he was pretty sure he had killed the mood. In that case, he might as well be honest - though it was more likely to get him a reprimand, or at the very least a serious talk, rather than what he wanted.

"I thought... if you were angry about it... and if I have all this guilt that... Well, see, I wouldn't mind if you took your anger out on me..."

Hisoka sighed, his expression softening as he brushed Tsuzuki's hair back from his face and settled down beside him. "I'm not angry at _you_, though. And you'd _better_ not feel like I deserve to punish you for anything you've done to me, because that's really stupid."

"Oh, no... no." That was... half a lie, but it wouldn't have been when they started this conversation, so Tsuzuki decided it was okay. "It's just... if we both have these issues... maybe it would... Uhm, I guess I was just being selfish, thinking that maybe... uhmm..."

This turned him on too, and it shamed him. "...Never mind. I'm just twisted... sick. I'm sorry," he finished, turning his face into the pillow.

Hisoka didn't speak for a long time. When he did, his voice was muffled and self-conscious. "It's not wrong, Tsuzuki. It makes sense... kind of. And it makes sense, too, that you'd think maybe I'd get something out of it."

Tsuzuki kept his face hidden, and his voice was equally muffled. "Really...? So you're not mad at me?"

Hisoka considered. "A little. For bringing up _that_ when it was _us_ in bed. And for hating yourself so much that you'll take any excuse to hate yourself more." He stroked Tsuzuki's hair a little more. "It's frustrating."

"Sorry..."

"...Stop it." The voice was not quite mild, and then there was a long pause. All of a sudden, Tsuzuki's head was jerked from the pillow roughly, forced to look up into Hisoka's steady eyes or have his hair ripped out at the roots. Some of it probably was yanked out anyway, and his own eyes widened in surprise even as he winced.

"If you really think it could help," Hisoka told him, his expression so blank that Tsuzuki could tell there must be a lot going on behind it, "I'll try it. I'll try. And... you might be right."

Tsuzuki nearly gasped. "Th... thank you..."

"Shut up. Idiot."

Hisoka was naturally kind of rough, but he hadn't felt that way towards Tsuzuki for a long time. At first, everything he did was hesitant, a feeble attempt at being cruel. But there was an awful lot of anger inside him, anger he hadn't even been consciously aware of before - and when Tsuzuki felt relief and wanting and freedom with each instance of pain, it was easier not to hold back.

It still took weeks for him to be able to act on that anger without checking himself. It would have taken longer if Tsuzuki didn't feel so much better afterwards, when they lay curled together in their confused relief, each individually cursing the same man for forcing himself to be such an intimate part of their lives even when he wasn't there.

* * *

It took far longer than mere weeks before something changed. They'd tried different things, figured out what they liked best, what to avoid. Sometimes Tsuzuki still wanted to be tied up, sometimes he didn't need the physical aids to get the same results.

He'd never, ever struck back when Hisoka struck him before, however, and the look on his face as he stared down at Hisoka, pinned beneath him, said that he was even more surprised than Hisoka was.

Speechless, too, which Hisoka counted as a good thing, because he knew what Tsuzuki would be saying if he was saying anything at all. He spoke first, despite having the breath knocked out of him, and pre-empted it. "Don't you _dare_ say you're sorry for that."

Tsuzuki looked slightly pained, but mostly stunned. "B-but..."

"Don't." Very slowly, Hisoka actually smiled as he went over it again and came to the same obvious conclusion. "I want him to stay dead this time."

Tsuzuki's eyes could hardly widen further, but they did when he realized that he really had acted on his own behalf.

As he sat back, amazed, Hisoka put a hand to his own cheek where Tsuzuki's elbow had caught him. It was already healed, more or less, but still stung a little. "Well, okay - if you want to apologize to me, you can. But only to me, and only for this. And then it's over."

Breathless from exertion and shock and the fear that maybe this wasn't what it seemed to be, Tsuzuki dared to laugh softly. "...Sorry, Hisoka."

Hisoka sat up as well, and put his arms around Tsuzuki with a quiet laugh of his own. "I forgive you."

There was no one else to forgive or be forgiven, because as they held each other, for once they were alone in their bed.


End file.
